


Russian Roulette (is not the same without a gun)

by LadySlytherin



Category: Toy Story (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Breathplay, Cheating, Infidelity, M/M, Oral Sex, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Under-negotiated Kink, by which I mean non-negotiated kink, everything is rough fuck it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-10
Updated: 2019-07-10
Packaged: 2020-06-25 16:45:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19749733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySlytherin/pseuds/LadySlytherin
Summary: Andy Davis is used to getting whatever he wants. It's not that he'sspoiled,exactly...it's just that between his looks and his smarts and his charm, people don't usually tell him no.This...isn't always a good thing.Sometimes, though...sometimes it'sthe best.





	Russian Roulette (is not the same without a gun)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, peeps...if any of you are super-excited because I wrote _another_ Sid/Andy fic...please don't hate me for this one, okay? Cause this is _not_ the same Sid and Andy as _NSID._ It's not even _close._
> 
> You might hate Andy in this. And that's okay, really. Just...don't hate _me_ for writing it. XD
> 
> Comments thrill me, as long as you aren't yelling at me. ❤️
> 
> ~ Sly

Andy Davis had no idea how the hell he’d gotten to this point in his life; how he had sunk this fucking _low._ If someone had told him before he’d reached this point that one day he would, he’d have laughed himself sick at the idea, then probably punched whatever asshole had suggested such a thing. Because this? _This was not supposed to be his life._ And the worst part was that he had retraced the whole thing in his mind, a thousand times over and then some...and he still couldn't figure out how this had happened, or why.

He was beginning to think he never would.

~*~*~*~

During the summer after Andy’s sophomore year of college, he was back home over break and killing time. He mostly just wanted to go back to school, though he missed Molly and his mom dearly when he was away. It was just that he _loved_ school, and the friends he’d made there, and his classes, and just... _everything._ But while killing time, he’d grabbed a bite to eat from the town’s diner, because they had curly fries and the best damned milkshakes _ever_ and he was in the mood. And the waitress...

Hannah Phillips had been in his class since kindergarten, and Andy wondered if she’d always been so lovely. He imagined she probably had, though how he’d missed it was a mystery. So Andy made small talk - about his college courses, and the way she was putting herself through the local community college with a partial scholarship and financial aid and a shit-ton of hours at the diner, busting her ass and praying for decent tips - and at the end, he asked Hanah out on a date. Because Andy had always gotten what he wanted and, in that moment, he knew he wanted Hannah.

And the thing was, Hannah wanted him, too. She was sweet, and funny, and a little bit shy...and Andy took a special kind of delight in spoiling her and flattering her, because he liked the way she blushed.

By the time summer ended, Andy had made a decision. Hannah was his...and she was going to _stay_ his. Forever, if he got his way. Which, of course, he usually did.

~*~*~*~

When Andy graduated, he went home. Not because he didn’t have options, but because home meant _Hannah_ and that was wildly important to him. So he took a job in the city, because the little suburban town he’d grown up in didn’t have much in the way of communications or technology positions, and he commuted. And Hannah moved into his new apartment with him, and things went along perfectly well for quite a while.

Quite a while wasn’t _forever,_ though. Not nearly.

~*~*~*~

Almost immediately after graduating, Andy proposed to Hannah. She, of course, said yes. Two years after graduation, Hannah Phillips became Hannah _Davis_ instead. The year after that they bought a house, and Hannah finally completed her own degree, and they began talking about starting a family of their own. It wasn’t that they were in a rush, it was just that Hannah wanted kids and so did Andy and there was no reason _not_ to start trying right away. So they did.

And, as luck would have it, _trying_ to start a family led to _actually_ starting a family fairly quickly. Within six months, Hannah had excitedly shown Andy a little white stick with twin blue lines on it and Andy had picked her up and spun her around and kissed her laughing mouth, filled to the brim with happiness. Because this was everything he’d ever wanted. A nice house in the town he grew up in, a stable job that he loved, a wife who was practically perfect - at least for him - and now a child on the way. He couldn't have asked for anything more.

The universe had a cruel and twisted sense of humor, though. Because while Andy’s life looked perfect on the surface, underneath there was a secret. A dark, roiling secret.

Andy wished he could blame someone else for that; for the whole mess. But he knew better. This was on him.

~*~*~*~

Andy had no idea how it happened the first time. It was his and Hannah’s first Christmas together, and they’d thrown a small get-together at Hannah’s tiny apartment because Andy was only back from college for a couple of weeks over winter break and he was staying at his mom’s. And Hannah had worked late the night before, then put the whole party together, and hosted, and so Andy had sent her on to bed while he cleaned up. It was the least he could do, really, and he was happy to help. Besides, she had to work in the morning.

Sid had stayed to help clean up as well, not because of any fondness for Andy but because he and his younger sister were as close as Andy was to Molly. Sid was at her apartment all the time, and had been a constant presence in Andy’s life for _months_ by then. It was what made the whole thing more baffling, because there had never been any indication of _this._ No lead up; no flirting or secretive looks or underlying tension. He and Sid tolerated each other for mutual love of Hannah, and snarked a bit because it was Sid’s nature to be nasty and Andy’s nature to give back what he got, but _this..._

This was not supposed to be happening.

Sometime between the moment he started kissing Sid - and Andy had no delusions about which of them had moved first; which of them had initiated that kiss, though Sid was certainly an active participant from the moment Andy captured his lips with his own - and the moment it occurred to him that this was the most horrible, reckless, idiotic thing he’d ever done, things got out of control.

Because by the time Andy’s brain decided to point out that this was - _badwrongcruel_ \- not good, he had somehow managed to spin Sid around, the slightly shorter man’s front now pressed to the wall. And somewhere along the way, both of their pants had been undone and Sid’s were shoved clean off, lying in a heap to one side of their feet, and Andy was buried to the hilt inside of - _hotslicktightsogoodsobadfuckingperfect_ \- Sid’s ass. Sid was mewling, and clawing at the wall, right there outside the kitchen doorway; the same wall Hannah had hung a picture of her and Andy on just a few weeks after they’d started dating, blushing prettily when Andy told her that it looked perfect, and the both of them so happy they were ready to _burst._

And Andy _knew_ that this was wrong. His girlfriend was up the short hallway, sleeping and unsuspecting and innocent and the love of Andy’s life...and he was fucking her older brother against the wall of her hallway, making Sid keen in pleasure before he sunk too-straight teeth into his own forearm to help muffle the sounds he couldn't seem to stop making. It was two days before Christmas. Hannah was his _girlfriend._ More than that, Andy was positive that he loved her, more than anything or anyone else. And Sid...

Sid was tensing against him, body clutching his cock even tighter as he painted the pretty blue wall with sticky-wet streaks, and Andy sunk his teeth into the vulnerable spot where Sid’s neck met his shoulder and followed the older man over the edge. When he was done, Andy slowly pulled back, wondering what he was supposed to do now. Sid slowly turned around, slumping back against the wall as though he were boneless and slowly sliding down it. He blinked up at Andy with glassy green eyes - so much like Hannah’s it was eerie, really - and Andy wondered again what _the fuck_ he was supposed to do now.

Because the wall next to Sid had Sid’s drying come on it, and Sid’s splayed legs showed where _Andy’s_ release was slowly seeping out of him onto the hardwood floor, and the whole world had flipped itself upside down.

Part of Andy wished he was drunk. At least then he’d have had some sort of excuse. And even if it was a _shit_ excuse, it would’ve been better than what he had, which was _nothing._ And also, he might have been at least a little bit numb if he’d been drunk; might not have cared so much about how fucked up this whole thing was. Might have had a chance in hell of waking up in the morning and _not_ remembering this. Any of it.

Sid was still staring at him, eyes wide and somehow guileless in that moment, in a way Andy didn’t think he’d ever seen them be before, but he didn’t speak. And Andy...well, Andy didn’t have anything to say.

So, finally, he righted his pants and walked away, up the hallway and to the bedroom he was sharing with Hannah for the night. He cleaned up as quietly as he could with the wet-wipes Hannah kept on the dresser, then slid into bed beside her. Hannah murmured a sleepy greeting, rousing just enough to kiss him softly on the mouth and snuggle close. Andy pulled her in, and kissed the top of her head, and stroked one hand over the curve of her waist, and knew he was a horrible person.

He wondered if Sid would say anything. To him. To Hannah. To _anyone._ With Sid, one never could tell.

~*~*~*~

Sid never said anything.

He didn’t say anything the first time it happened, two days before Christmas. He didn’t say anything when Andy pinned him to the floor, covering his mouth with one strong hand to muffle Sid’s screams of pleasure as Andy fucked him into the floor beneath the twinkling lights of the Christmas tree the next night, right next to all of the festively wrapped presents. He didn’t say anything on New Year’s Eve, when Andy dragged Sid out of the bar they’d gone to - some New Year’s Eve bash that was supposed to be the best thing ever - and fucked Sid in the dirty alley behind the place, up against a wall a lot rougher than the one in Hannah’s apartment. Sid didn’t say anything when Andy repeatedly held him down, and pressed bruises into that fair skin with too-rough hands, and left teeth marks and hickies all over that long neck. He didn’t say anything when Andy fucked his throat so raw he rasped for two days, waving off Hannah’s concerns with excuses and rolled eyes. Sid didn’t say anything when Andy fucked him in the little bathroom of the apartment he and Hannah moved into right after his graduation, a housewarming party going on on the other side of that flimsy locked door. He didn’t say anything when Andy kicked his other groomsmen out of the room they were waiting in at the church, fucking Sid while they were both wearing their tuxedos and Hannah’s friends helped her put on a pretty white dress somewhere else in the building, because Andy was nervous and he had to do _something_ with all of that restless energy. Sid said nothing when Hannah went away on _Girls’ Trips_ with her friends, and Andy fucked him in the bed he shared with Hannah, making him scream and sob and beg for more; relentless as he claimed Sid’s body for himself despite knowing he had _no right_ to do so. Sid didn’t say anything when Andy dragged him into a tiny bathroom stall at the venue they were holding the baby shower at, shoving Sid to his knees and fucking that smart mouth until he was coming down Sid’s throat, some time between party games and presents, all baby-themed.

Years passed, and Sid never said _anything._

And then, one day... _he did._

~*~*~*~

“Fuck...fuck, A-andy...right there, yesss...”

Sid was writhing under him, clawing at the carpeting in Andy’s office. The sounds of the party filtered through the closed door from up the hall, where Hannah - radiant at seven months pregnant - was hosting the celebration of Andy’s new promotion, which including the office he was now debasing with Sid. He slammed into the older man again, making Sid cry out, and snarled.

“For fuck’s sake, Sid, _shut up.”_ He snapped lowly, his hips still moving with brutal force. “You want to bring everyone running to see what the commotion’s about?”

Sid whined, pressing his ass back into Andy’s punishing thrusts, and Andy couldn't resist dropping a sharp smack to one pale ass cheek, adding coldly. “I said, _shut. Up.”_ He punctuated the words with hard, driving thrusts, adding waspishly. “Christ, you don’t listen worth a damn, do you?”

“F-fuck you, Davis.” Sid stuttered out, his whole body trembling as he turned to glare over his shoulder at Andy. He looked impossibly stubborn, green eyes narrowed aggressively despite the way he was on his hands and knees for Andy, taking his brother-in-law’s cock like a professional whore and begging for more. Just like he _always_ did.

“Mmmm...pretty sure this is going the other way, actually.” Andy said conversationally, smirking just a bit when Sid’s cheeks darkened with a blush. Then, he tightened his grip on Sid’s narrow hips, certain there would be purple and blue-black marks there in the morning and shivering a little at the thought.

He fucked into Sid relentlessly; drove into him with enough force that Sid was certain to have rug burn on his knees before they were done and would likely be walking with a little hitch to his step for at least the rest of the night, if not longer. Andy loved that. Loved when they rejoined Hannah after one of these little trysts and Sid was moving differently because Andy’s cock had stretched him and filled him, then left him sore and slick and empty. He had stopped expecting Sid to say something years ago; had accepted his own horrible nature even before that, when he couldn't seem to stop doing this.

Sid was like a drug, and Andy wasn’t even _trying_ to kick the habit. But then, Andy was used to getting what he wanted, wasn’t he? Even when it was wrong.

His rhythm faltered for a moment when Sid gasped out. “Do you fuck _her_ like this?”

For a moment, Andy felt ill. Partly at the thought of using his sweet, beautiful, beloved Hannah the way he was using her brother...and partly at the reminder that he was married. Then, he saw red. Because _no._ Because _how fucking dare he._ Because Sid had _no right_ bringing up Hannah, _years_ into this whole fucked up mess. Because this was neither the time, nor the place, nor the _anything_ for such a conversation, and that was pressuming such a conversation needed to happen at all. And Andy was pretty sure that, at this juncture, no such conversation was necessary.

Furious, Andy fisted one hand in Sid’s hair and _yanked,_ ignoring the way Sid cried out in pain as he forced him to arch his back up, leaning in to hiss in his ear. “Don’t you _ever_ fucking talk about her when we’re like this. You hear me? Don’t you fucking _dare.”_

He released Sid’s hair and the older man slumped down onto his forearms, laughing breathily though the sound wasn’t a pleasant one. Then, in a tone that was almost _conversational_ it was so damned casual, he said. “I’ll take that as a _no,_ then. What’s the matter, Davis? She can’t take it like I can? Is that why you keep coming back for more? Cause she can’t handle it when you get rough, and god knows you fucking _love_ to get rough, don’t you? Bet she’d call you a fucking _monster_ if you tried even half of what you’ve done to me with her, wouldn’t she?”

Sid’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard just then, though it was low and breathless and interspersed with soft sounds of pleasure because Andy _still_ hadn't stopped fucking him. And it wasn’t that Sid’s _tone_ was grating so much as it was that his _words_ were. Because Sid was malicious, and cruel, and fucking _hateful;_ he didn’t know how to be anything else. But he was also _honest._ And that hurt, more than any lie or insult he might have spat out. _Sid wasn’t wrong._

“Shut _up.”_ Andy snarled, and he slammed one hand into the space between Sid’s shoulder blades, forcing the other man down to the floor in an instant. Sid let out a soft _oomph_ as the air rushed out of his lungs, then made a small noise of pain when Andy fisted his hand back in that thick, dark hair.

He leaned down, curling himself over Sid’s long, lean body and put his lips right next to the other man’s ear, even as he forced Sid’s cheek down into the thick green carpet of his brand-new office. “God, just shut the _fuck_ up, Sid. For once in your _fucking_ life, don’t be so goddamned mouthy.”

“Make me.” Sid breathed, bucking up as though trying to throw Andy off of him, though he clenched his body around Andy’s cock at the same time in an intimate caress that belied that action and added. “Come on Davis, fucking _make me.”_ He paused, then added with a smirk so big Andy could _hear_ it. “Fuck me like you fucking mean it. Like you can’t fuck _her.”_

Andy pulled out between one heartbeat and the next, flipping Sid onto his back a second later. Sid gasped, then moaned loudly when Andy slammed back into him. And Sid’s mouth was _still_ fucking running; spewing out filth and encouragement and begging for more, but now...now he kept bringing up Hannah. Kept driving the point home, over and over again, and Andy...

Andy couldn't _fucking_ take it.

So he curled one hand around the front of Sid’s throat and pressed forward, the V between his thumb and his index finger slowly compressing Sid’s windpipe; making it impossible for the older man to draw enough air to keep up his tirade. And Sid was clawing at Andy’s wrist; slapping ineffectually at his arm as he tried to get Andy to let go so he could _breathe._ Andy didn’t let up; didn’t give in. Watched as Sid’s eyes went wide and panicked, his body clamping down on Andy’s cock like a fucking vice. And it was good; better, even; the fucking _best._

He watched as Sid’s gorgeous, fear-filled eyes rolled back in his head, then he toppled over the edge, falling headfirst into climax. Andy pumped his release into Sid’s body, filling the other man with it, and finally - _finally_ \- moved his hand away from Sid’s throat. Sid gasped, desperately drawing air into his lungs, his whole body shaking as he spilled himself over his own stomach.

Andy got to his feet, crossing to his desk and using a few tissues to wipe himself up before he straightened his clothing, which he’d barely undone...only as much as had been absolutely necessary. He looked back at Sid, sprawled across the hunter green carpeting. Stripped bare, stomach glistening with his release, creamy thighs spread and his slick, fucked-out hole leaking Andy’s come. Bruises already showing on his hips and his throat, the dark color splashed across his pale skin like ink; like Andy had added to the tattoos Sid wore, collecting pictures on his skin the way some people collected stamps or coins or valuable, _useful_ things. Still gasping for air, trying to catch the breath that Andy had taken from him. Looking like the perfect little whore, all used up and broken. 

He met Andy’s eyes, and Andy couldn't read the emotion there. Couldn't quite figure out what was swimming in that rich, sea-green color. Voice hoarse, Sid rasped. “How fast would she leave you, do you think, if you ever held her down and fucked her like that?”

Andy didn’t dignify that with a response. He shot Sid a disgusted look, then headed for the door. He’d nearly reached it when a hand on his arm made him stop; pulled him up short. He turned around and Sid was standing right next to him, still nude, Andy’s come sliding down his thighs now that he was upright, and it was so fucking _obscene._ It made Andy want to leave; made him want to break something; made him want to bend Sid over his big, new desk and fuck him _again._ He clenched his hands into fists to resist that last urge and waited for Sid to say whatever the fuck he’d stopped Andy to say.

“You can act like a little priss all you want, Davis, but we both know the truth.” Sid said, and his voice was quiet now and oddly gentle, considering his words. “If you could fuck her like you do me, you wouldn’t be doing this. So don’t act like you’re better than me. Don’t act like you’re the bigger person here, or like you can just walk away. You’re an asshole, and a sick fuck, and if she ever found out, she’d fucking _hate_ you.”

“Not half as much as she’d hate you.” Andy snapped back, though he wasn’t sure he believed it himself. “You’re nothing but a fucking cockslut, Sid. You bend over and beg for it the second you’re alone with me. You take it however I see fit to give it to you, without a fucking word of complaint. You’re a disgusting fucking whore. You’ve probably let half the town fuck you. You’re her _big brother,_ Sid. Your job is to protect her, not beg her husband for his fucking cock.”

Sid stepped in closer, nose-to-nose with Andy now, and hissed furiously. “Who I fuck is no one’s business but mine, because I’m _single._ You’re cheating on your fucking _pregnant wife._ So you don’t get to call me a fucking _slut,_ like you’ve got the moral high ground here, because you _don’t._ You’re the worst sort of scum.” Sid took a half-step back, and added softly. “And I _am_ protecting her, Davis. All that fucking violence and rage inside of you? It’s got to go _somewhere,_ doesn’t it? Better me than her.”

Andy turned on his heel and left the room; left Sid in his office, naked and dirty and radiating smugness. Didn’t say a word, because he had never been good at telling when Sid was lying and he didn’t want to _know._ He didn’t want to know why Sid was doing this. Didn’t want to have to think about why _he_ was doing this. Didn’t want to analyze what _this_ even was, or why he couldn't seem to stop, or how - even now - he was thinking about the next time he’d be able to get Sid alone. About all of the deliciously awful ways he could punish Sid for bringing this up; for _saying something,_ after all this time.

When Sid slipped back into the party long minutes later, Andy was at Hannah’s side, an arm around her waist and a proud-father smile on his face as several coworkers and friends cooed over her stomach. Sid was limping a little, like Andy had known he would be, and that small thrill of satisfaction washed over him when he saw it. Hannah hadn't noticed Sid’s absence, or his own, but then, she never did. She was so trusting; so naive and innocent and pure. She had _no idea_ what it meant that they always disappeared _together._ Had no suspicions about where they wandered off to, or what they might be doing. Never questioned anything.

If she had, would he have stopped?

Probably not.

~*~*~*~

“Stop.”

Andy wasn’t really listening; he’d learned to block out what Sid was saying while they were like this because, as Hannah’s pregnancy progressed - ever since that night in his office - Sid had continued _saying things._ Things about Hannah, and about Andy, and about the whole fucked up situation they were in. And Andy didn’t want to hear it, so he’d stopped listening. Which was why Sid’s demand didn’t really register. He was busy marking up Sid’s neck and collarbone, one hand working on the fly of Sid’s skin-tight black jeans and whatever crap was coming out of Sid’s mouth was just... _unimportant._

Right up until Sid’s hands shoved at his chest, making him stagger back. “What the fuck, Sid?”

“I said, _stop.”_ Sid’s voice was shaky, and quiet, but there was force behind the words. “Fuck, don’t you know how to listen?”

Andy watched as Sid moved to open the door to the small, one-person bathroom Andy had dragged him into. He slammed his hand against the door, closing it before it had opened more than an inch, and then boxed Sid in with a hand on either side of him. “Shhh...” He crooned, pressing his mouth back to Sid’s throat. “I’ll be quick. She won’t even notice we’re gone. Just...let me...”

“No!” The word burst from Sid’s mouth, hands once again shoving Andy away from him. Sid was trembling, but not in a good way; not like he normally did when Andy got him alone. “Just... _no.”_

Andy was having trouble understanding what was happening, so - on instinct - he reached for Sid again. The older man glared and slapped his hands away, snapping angrily. “What part of _no_ do you not understand, Davis? I’m fucking done, okay? I’m _done._ Just...Christ, go hold Hannah’s hand while she has the baby. Pretend like you give a fuck about her for a few fucking hours, at least. Just...don’t touch me. Fucking _don’t.”_

Sid was gone in the instant after that, and Andy stood in the little hospital bathroom, wondering what the hell had just happened. Not once, in the five years they’d been doing this, had Sid ever told him _no._ True, they sometimes went weeks or even months without touching, but that was by chance and opportunity - or lack-thereof - not because Sid was turning him down. Andy glanced at the mirror, into his own shocked blue eyes, and realized that Sid had never told him _no..._ but Sid had also never _initiated._ He had never refused Andy’s advances, but they had always been _Andy’s_ advances. At no point during this whole thing had Sid _ever_ been the aggressor.

Bile coated his throat in a sour-sweet-hot rush and Andy was grateful there was a toilet nearby. He lunged for it, emptying his stomach and swearing this was it. This was done; over. Sid was right about that, at least. He had to _stop._ For Hannah’s sake, and for his own.

~*~*~*~

Andy watched Hannah rock their son, humming softly while she fed him. “How is he?” He asked softly, staying in the nursery’s doorway. The room felt like it belonged to Hannah, and he hadn't really gone in except at her express request. 

“He’s good.” Hannah murmured, never taking her eyes off the baby’s face. “Aren’t you, Benji? You’re just perfect, my little darling...”

Benjamin - _Benji,_ as Hannah had taken to calling him - was two weeks old. Andy loved his son, more than he had realized he could possibly love something _so small._ And he loved Hannah more than ever before, for having given him the precious little boy. All was right with the world. Or it should have been, anyway.

“I’m worried about Sid.”

Andy’s head snapped up, eyes moving from where he’d been watching his son eat to Hannah’s face and her concerned green eyes. “Wh-what?” He stammered, feeling wrong-footed and uneasy all of a sudden.

“He hasn’t been by since Benji was born.” She pointed out, and Andy knew that; _of course_ he knew that, though he was desperately trying _not_ to track the days since the incident in the bathroom at the hospital.

_Fifteen._

Trying didn’t mean succeeding, after all.

“I’m sure he’s just busy with work. You know how he is.” Andy forced a smile onto his lips and prayed it didn’t look as fake as it felt. “And didn’t you say you thought he’d been seeing someone? Maybe he’s taking some time for his relationship or something.

Hannah nodded slowly, and something about the look on her face made Andy even more nervous. He resisted the urge to fidget, knowing it would make him look guilty. “Right...” Hannah said at last, her voice going a little funny as she spoke. “Andy, I...”

She stopped and Andy held his breath, wondering what she was going to say next. Finally, she shook her head and continued. “Nevermind. Just...I miss my brother, that’s all.”

It felt like an admonishment, though there was no way Hannah could possibly know that Andy was the reason Sid was staying away. So Andy just nodded, then asked if she needed anything. When Hannah demurred, Andy slunk away, wondering how the hell he was supposed to fix this. It had _always_ been broken, mind you; it was just that it was now broken in a way that was hurting his wife. And he had no idea what to do about it.

~*~*~*~

Benji was six months old before Andy and Sid were in the same place at the same time again. And, honestly, that was purely by accident. Andy had left work early, planning to surprise Hannah. He parked up the street so his car wouldn’t give away the game, then quietly slipped inside. If he hadn't been so focused on trying to be stealthy, he’d have noticed Sid’s motorcycle parked in front of the neighbor’s house. And he’d have remembered that Hannah had mentioned Sid coming by several times, but always when Andy was at work. She’d made an odd comment about _conflicting schedules_ with a funny twist to her mouth, referencing the fact that even though _she_ had seen her brother since Benji’s birth, Andy still hadn't, but Andy had shrugged it off, changing the subject as quickly as possible. He didn’t want to talk about Sid. Especially not to Hannah.

But Andy was busy being sneaky, juggling his keys and the bouquet of flowers he’d picked up on his way home and his briefcase. So he _didn’t_ notice the motorcycle; not at all.

And he didn’t realize Sid was in the house until he was standing in the kitchen, having dropped his briefcase on a chair, hung his keys on the assigned hook for them, and laid the flowers on the counter while he tried to remember what cabinet Hannah kept the vases in. He didn’t want them to wilt, so he thought it was probably best to get them into water right away. And the baby monitor was on the counter, because that was where it usually was, unless one of them was actively using it in another room.

And he flicked it on, just to see if Hannah was in the nursery with Benji or if he had to worry that she was going to pop into the kitchen before he could sneak up on her and surprise her. She _was_ in the nursery with Benji.

So was Sid.

“I wish you’d stop avoiding him.” Hannah’s voice was edged with annoyance; sharp in the way it only ever got when she was angry with her brother. “It’s not helping.”

“It’s certainly not hurting.” Sid snarked, and Andy silently praised and cursed the state-of-the-art baby monitor that conveyed their voices so clearly; it was like they were right next to him, no static or anything.

“It _is_ hurting, and you know it.” Benji made a small, fussy sound and Hannah shushed him, clothing rustling as she moved. To soothe him? To feed him? Andy wasn’t certain. When she spoke again, her tone was a little softer. “It’s not necessary, Sid. I’ve told you that.”

There was a pause, then Sid huffed out an unamused laugh. Andy strained his ears, trying to pick up every sound he could; every bit of information he could glean from this. It was pathetic, but he couldn't bring himself to care because _fuck,_ he’d missed Sid. He hadn't even realized how much until this; until he could hear the other man’s voice again.

“You know, most women don’t encourage their brothers to let their husbands fuck them, Hannah.”

Andy’s chest locked around a breath. He felt like he’d suddenly been transported into a vacuum; like there was no air and his lungs were going to just... _pop,_ like balloons.

“You love him.” Hannah said it simply; easily. Like it was nothing. “Loved him before _I_ did, even, and I was the one officially dating him. And Heaven knows he loves you, even if he can’t admit it. How petty and small and selfish would I have to be, if I tried to keep you two apart?”

“Pretty sure the words you’re searching for are _reasonable_ and _human.”_ Sid’s voice was dry, but also tired. “He was yours, Hannah. I had no right to him. I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

Hannah hummed softly, and Andy’s hands were clenched around the edge of the counter, staring unseeingly at the vase he’d pulled out and the flowers he’d bought. When she spoke at last, her voice was thoughtful and slow. “I don’t think it works that way, Sid. It’s not like you deliberately seduced him. You two just...fell into each other. And I very easily could have stepped aside when I first realized, but I...well, by then _I_ loved him, too. And I know it’s hardly fair, that I get him every day and publically, while you’re stuck with scraps, but Sid...it was _working._ And I don’t know how you think breaking this is the right thing to do, but it’s _not.”_

Andy let out a trembling breath and wondered when the hell Hannah had found out. Wondered why she’d never said anything. Wondered why the fuck _Sid_ had suddenly grown a conscience about the whole thing, after all of this time. Wondered what he was supposed to do now.

“Don’t think I get to complain about _unfair,_ given the circumstances.” Sid’s weary voice was laced with resignation and self-loathing. “I can’t...Hannah, I _can’t._ You don’t...god, you don’t even know what he’s _like,_ okay? The Andy that I was with is _not_ the same Andy that you’re with. He’s...harsh. Cruel. And I don’t think he’d never be like that with you, but I don’t understand how he can be _so_ different with me. How he can fit _both_ of us so perfectly, when we’re so completely fucking different, and it scares me sometimes the things I bring out in him, because what if he brings those things back to you?”

“Language.” Hannah admonished.

“Because Benji has _so much_ understanding at this age.” Sid snarked, and Andy could perfectly picture the way he was rolling his eyes.

Hannah laughed quietly. “Not the point, Sid.” She was silent for a moment, then added. “He wouldn’t be like that with me, because it’s not what _I_ need. And I’d imagine he could be soft to you, if _you_ needed it. I also imagine some of the harshness is because he hates himself - at least a little bit - whenever he’s with you. If you could just be honest with him, that might help. And Sid, does it matter how? Is that really the important thing?”

“So what, you want me to just _share_ your husband with you?” Sid laughed, a little hysterically, and Andy had to agree because that sounded _insane._ But also...

Hannah hummed again. “I’m saying that I want everyone to be happy. And we _were_ happy, Sid, right up until the idea of me as a mother made you freak out about the whole thing, like Benji existing as a person rather than an abstract concept somehow made it different. Just...forgive yourself for wanting this, then let yourself have it. I promise it’ll be okay.”

Andy slumped against the counter, accidentally bumping into the vase. It clattered noisily even as he hastily steadied it before it could go crashing to the floor. He heard Sid and Hannah talking over the baby monitor, then footsteps coming down the stairs, and then his wife and her brother were standing in the kitchen doorway and Hannah’s eyes were on the baby monitor with its bright lights, and Sid’s eyes were on _him,_ and Andy wasn’t sure what to do or what was going to happen.

Hannah braced Benji against her shoulder with one hand, then placed the other between Sid’s shoulder blades and _pushed,_ albeit gently. Sid took a staggering step forward, then shot Hannah a terrified look, but Hannah was smiling easily and that was apparently all he needed.

In the next moment, Sid had crossed the kitchen and stopped in front of Andy, wide-eyed and clearly uncertain and shaking all over with nerves. And Andy...Andy suddenly knew _exactly_ what to do.

He glanced over at Hannah and said. “I brought you flowers, dear. Will you put them in a vase? I’d hate for them to wilt.”

Hannah’s lips curved up a little more, her smile widening. “Of course. I was just about to start dinner, unless you’d rather we order something in. Since we have company.”

“Whatever you want is fine.” Andy said agreeably, watching from the corner of his eye as Sid relaxed slowly; by degrees, a bit at a time, as Andy and Hannah casually talked. “You’re alright with Benji, aren’t you? You don’t need help with him right now?”

Hannah’s eyes sparkled as she caught on to what he was doing, and she shook her head. “Not at all. You should be good for an hour or so, at least. I’ll let you know if I need you for anything, but it should be fine.”

Andy nodded, then - whip-quick - reached out and yanked Sid up against him. The older man gasped and Andy caught his mouth in a fierce kiss, because _fuck,_ he’d missed Sid. Sid’s arms were around his neck a heartbeat later and Andy growled as he spun them around, pressing Sid hard against the counter and grinding their bodies together.

Hannah’s laughter and chiding voice had them breaking apart, Sid blushing furiously and Andy with a wicked smile curving his lips. “I’m trying to cook, gentleman. That sort of requires that you take this _elsewhere.”_

Andy turned and snagged her arm as she skirted past them, pressing a soft kiss to her lips and then dropping one on Benji’s head. “Our room, or the guest room?”

Hannah hummed consideringly, studying her brother’s face. Finally, she said. “The guest room, for Sid’s piece of mind, I’d think. He’s...struggling a bit, right now.” As she moved away to place Benji in his highchair, she added. “I was thinking we could do up the one guest room, actually. Make it into a room for you and Sid, whenever he’s around and all. Or always, if he wanted to move in. That way he and I each have our own space.”

“Always with the details.” Andy teased, affection lacing the words. “I’ll leave that to you then, dear.”

Hannah waved him off, and Andy curled strong fingers around Sid’s slim wrist, leading him out of the kitchen and up the stairs, towards the guest room he knew Hannah had in mind. In the doorway, Sid balked; Andy paused and waited, because he’d had a feeling this would happen at some point.

“We can’t really be doing this...”

“Why not?”Andy asked, looking at Sid patiently, one eyebrow raised in question. “Hannah’s fine with it. We’ve already _been_ doing it, and now we’ve actually _talked_ about it. So why the hell not?”

“I don’t know!” Sid exclaimed, looking a little frantic. “I just...I don’t _know._ But...we can’t. Right?”

Andy shook his head. “Wrong.” He pulled Sid in close again, kissing him. Softly, this time; in a way he normally reserved for Hannah but which Sid seemed to need just then. “We can. We absolutely _can.”_ And then, because he had a feeling it was what Sid needed - though he never had before - Andy added. “She’s right, you know. I _do_ love you. Both of you.”

Sid’s mouth trembled, just a bit, but he nodded. “Love you, too.” He mumbled, not quite meeting Andy’s eyes, though his body did relax.

More confident now, Andy stepped back into the guest room and purred darkly. “Get in here. Close the door. _Strip.”_

Sid looked up, eyes dark and pupils blown with lust. He licked his lips, then obeyed. As he hastily shed his clothes, Andy wondered how the hell he’d managed to get so lucky.

He had a loving wife and a beautiful new baby boy; the perfect family. He had a job he loved and a new promotion and a cushy office. He had a nice house in the town he grew up in. And he had _Sid._ His lover, who understood all of the darker, meaner, selfish parts of Andy; who _loved_ all of those parts of Andy.

As he shoved Sid down onto the bed and slipped inside him for the first time in far too many months, Andy couldn't help smirking to himself.

He _always_ got what he wanted.

_**~ Fin ~** _


End file.
